


with your name wrapped tight around my ribs (you’ll keep me warm)

by ambrosius



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic Revealed, Mutual Pining, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambrosius/pseuds/ambrosius
Summary: Arthur should have known that the hunting trip was ill-fated from the start. It always felt like something went wrong when it was just him and Merlin, but how could he have known that it would turn his entire world upside down?(Or, Merlin is hurt during a bandit attack, uses magic, and Arthur suddenly has no idea what anything means anymore.)
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 389
Collections: Merlin Holidays 2020





	with your name wrapped tight around my ribs (you’ll keep me warm)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merlin Holidays Community](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Merlin+Holidays+Community).



> To the Merlin Hols community (and all Merlin fans), this is for you! I hope you all have a wonderful holiday and a fantastic new year (we can only go up from here, right?) Happy holidays everyone! :D
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, [TheDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragon/pseuds/TheDragon), for helping me fix up this fic! You're the best! Any remaining mistakes are, of course, my own.
> 
> And another huge thank you to the mods for hosting this fest again (and putting up with me and all of your help!)
> 
> The title of this fic comes from the poem “To the Desert” by Benjamin Alire Sáenz.

“Don’t you just love the first snow of the season? The crisp air, the way the snow falls, and how every snowflake is different…” Merlin said, leaning his head back as if to relish in the snowflakes that were falling from the sky.

“I would love it more if we could appreciate it in silence.” Arthur wasn’t so naive to Merlin’s ways that he didn’t know what he was doing. Arthur knew that if Merlin managed to distract him long enough while they were hunting (and just for the record, no, he did not _drag_ Merlin along with him, contrary to certain people’s belief—it’s not his fault that even though he tells Merlin he doesn’t have to be there, Merlin just sighs loudly and grumbles something about unicorns in response and comes along anyway) that nothing would really transpire.

“Would you though?” Merlin questioned. “I really think that is just blatantly untrue. Peace and quiet only lead to one thing, and we won’t mention that. Don’t want to jinx anything.”

“ _Mer_ lin, I swear on everything that you do this on purpose.”

“Me? Never.” Merlin winked. “And, also, I know you love the snow, so there.”

“What are you five? And anyway, that is pure lies and slander,” Arthur argued, even though it was true.

“Oh, so we’re just going to pretend that I don’t know you at all, huh? We’re, what, roughly three years into this arrangement and you think I wouldn’t pick up on a few things? I know you, Arthur Pendragon.”

And didn’t that make Arthur’s heart beat a little quicker.

“Don’t look so smug, I’ll have you know that this _arrangement_ goes both ways,” Arthur said with a grin in Merlin’s direction. “I know you too, Merlin.”

Merlin laughed sharply at that. “If you say so.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him in response. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Merlin said, raising a hand up in the air, seemingly to attempt to convey his innocence. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“I do know you, Merlin,” Arthur insisted. And he did—it almost felt as if he knew him too well some days.

Merlin gave him a soft smile at that. “I know you do, Arthur,” Merlin said.

“Good, glad we cleared that up,” Arthur said, coughing into his gloved hand. “Now, if we could focus a little more on hunting and a little less on chatting, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, not at all, sire, not at all. Wouldn’t want to spook anything, now would we? No, sir, that would be awful. Just tragic.”

“ _Mer_ lin…”

“I mean, who knows...there could be another beautiful magic creature that you can slay and unleash a curse upon all the people of Camelot.”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur said, affronted. Honestly, he had learned his lesson from that! 

“And there’s just going to be so many animals to hunt down in this weather, you know. We’ve seen an incredible amount already. Just deer upon deer upon deer as far as the eye can see.”

Arthur ignored Merlin, trying to focus as he could hear some rustling from behind them. He turned in his saddle, glancing around them as Merlin continued to chatter away, his own hair standing up on his arms. There was something, or someone, following them.

“And now, look at you, not even listening to me. I know I am but your humble servant, but good lord, have you no decency?” Merlin went on.

“Merlin,” Arthur said sharply, hoping Merlin would get the hint. He looked around to see where they could get to higher ground if necessary. The rustling was growing closer, and Arthur was feeling more on edge by the second.

“Touchy, touchy. Is it because I said that thing about your bum?”

Arthur blinked several times, the comment jarring him for a moment. “I beg your pardon?”

“See, this is how I know you don’t pay attention when I talk. Typical prince,” Merlin said, jokingly rolling his eyes with a smile. “Only listen to themselves speak.”

“Merlin, I swear to god,” Arthur said, feeling his jaw clench. “Now is not the time for this.” There was a resounding snap of a twig from behind them. “Someone’s behind us,” he whispered.

The smile dropped from Merlin’s face immediately as he looked at Arthur. He nodded at him, before looking around them, slowing his horse to move closer to Arthur, trying to act as nonchalant as he could to not give themselves away.

“How many?” Merlin asked quietly.

“Hard to say—maybe a dozen or so, maybe less,” Arthur responded. “When they attack, head for that hill up ahead, I’ll hold them off and meet you there.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Merlin stated.

“Merlin, for once in your life, listen to me.” Arthur willed the words to get to Merlin. They were outnumbered, and Arthur wouldn’t know what he would do if Merlin got hurt in the process.

“We’re going to be okay, Arthur,” Merlin said, decisively. 

If only it was that easy. If there were as many as Arthur thought then, well, he would fight like hell to give them a chance to get out of here alive. He wasn’t a superior swordsman for nothing.

“They’re here,” Merlin said, a chill running down Arthur’s spine.

They were quickly surrounded by a handful of bandits and Arthur wasted no time, jumping down from his horse and brandishing his sword. If Merlin wasn’t going to leave, then he needed to protect Merlin at all costs.

“If you’re not going to leave…” Arthur started to say before Merlin butted in with a resounding no. “Then stay behind me,” he all but demanded to Merlin, wishing more than ever that he made Merlin carry his own sword. He grabbed his dagger from its sheath, passing it over to Merlin quickly. It would have to do.

They stood back to back as the bandits ran toward them, hollering. Arthur held his sword up, at the ready as they charged. He met them head on, the clanking of his sword against the bandits’ loud in his ears.

Arthur made easy work of the first bandit to attack him. Another came up quickly from behind him, leaving Arthur to spin on his heel to deflect a hit aimed for his side. He kicked at the chest of the bandit, who then fell to the ground, hard. He took a breath, the adrenaline surging through him as he continued to stand his ground, meeting each thrust of a sword with his own. 

He shot a glance over at Merlin, checking on how he was faring, and he realized two bandits were heading straight for Merlin, swords raised. His heart in his throat, he blocked one of them as Merlin blocked the other. With a grunt, Arthur shoved the bandit out of the way, driving his sword into the second. Arthur’s eyes caught on the small trident insignia on the bandit’s sword. These men were from the kingdom of Mercia.

“Thanks,” Merlin muttered, his eyes scanning the forest around them. “How many more do you think there are?”

“Too many,” Arthur said, hearing more guttural growls as more bandits headed towards them.

_Fuck_ , Arthur thought. There were too many of them. How much longer could they hold out? Merlin only had a dagger, and if these bandits were sent from Mercia, they wouldn’t give up on killing the Prince of Camelot, whom they must have recognized (or they had been sent to kill him personally, given the sheer amount of them).

It was as if the bandits realized that too, as he heard Merlin shout, “Arthur!” He turned around to see another one bearing down on him. Arthur stood, seemingly rooted in place, as Merlin jumped in front of him, his hand outstretched, foreign words falling from his lips in a shout, his eyes flashing gold.

The bandit was sent flying as Merlin turned, pushing Arthur behind him, as he continued to decimate the men that surrounded them.

Arthur couldn’t believe what he was seeing as man after man fell. His mind processing nothing but the gold in Merlin’s eyes—the magic—before there was a rustling sound from behind him as he turned, one last bandit coming up from behind on his horse, too quickly for Arthur to even have a chance to react.

Distantly, he heard Merlin shout his name again as he was pushed out of the way. Arthur watched as the sword from the bandit sliced Merlin’s arm and the momentum sent Merlin falling to the ground awkwardly, landing on his arm with a loud snap as his head bounced off the ground for a moment.

Merlin roared, a piercing sound, as his eyes once again were glowing a golden colour. He sent the bandit flying off of his horse, the man’s foot getting tangled with the rein, and it dragged him alongside as the horse ran.

“Merlin!” Arthur screamed, panic and shock overtaking him as he rushed over to him. 

Oh god, Merlin had magic, Merlin had _magic_ , _Merlin was hurt._

Merlin looked at him with wide eyes, the colour fading back to their normal blue.

“Arthur,” Merlin groaned, coming back to himself. Arthur saw him wince as he tried to move his arm.

Arthur needed to focus. “Don’t move,” he said, tearing off what he could of the bottom of his tunic, trying to attempt to make some sort of tourniquet to quell the bleeding. “I think it’s broken, Merlin. We need to get you to Gaius.”

Merlin hissed from the pain, holding onto Arthur has he tried to get up, slipping ever so slightly in the snow. “Are the bandits all gone?”

Gods, help him. “They’re long gone, Merlin, now be careful,” he pleaded. “We can get to Camelot faster if we can get you on my horse. I'll send one of the knights back here to grab yours.” He lifted Merlin gently the rest of the way up off of the ground, resting him on his feet to gather his bearings, before Merlin pulled away from him.

“I—I can do it,” Merlin slurred, trying to pull himself up onto the horse, only to slip.

Arthur’s heart leapt as he managed to catch him before he fell to the ground once more. Grabbing Merlin around the waist, he delicately lifted him up, settling Merlin gently onto the saddle before quickly climbing up behind him.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Arthur said as he held on tight to Merlin, the shock of everything that transpired still coursing through his veins. He was on alert, watching Merlin’s every movement, looking for any trace of additional pain—he watched in fear as Merlin’s head lolled for a moment.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, urgently. “You have to stay awake.”

“‘M trying,” Merlin mumbled.

“Just—just listen to my voice, okay?” Arthur continued. “Focus on me, on what we’re doing.”

“Riding to my death,” Merlin replied, patting Arthur’s hand with his good arm. “It’s s’okay.”

Arthur grit his teeth. “No one is dying on my watch. Do you hear me?”

“Just make sure it happens quick, will you? Death by pyre is not...” Merlin shook his head. “The way...to go.”

The throbbing in Arthur’s head grew the more Merlin spoke. “At the rate we’re going I’m going to banish you immediately for insolence alone, how does that sound?”

“I’d deserve it.”

Arthur felt like he took a punch to his stomach. He couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , think about this now. He had to get Merlin to Gaius, to Camelot, and only then could he think about what he witnessed, what Merlin’s all but fully admitted to—he couldn’t pretend he didn’t see it, that he didn’t understand what Merlin was referring to.

“Let’s not talk about that now,” Arthur said, squeezing Merlin as gently as he could. “We have more important things to worry about. Like how I’m going to have to get another servant until you recover.”

Merlin managed a feeble smile at that. “The horror.”

“Yes, indeed,” Arthur agreed. “So you better stay with me, okay?”

“Always,” Merlin muttered, going quiet for a moment.

As Arthur prattled on, trying to keep Merlin awake, he was getting more and more worried as Merlin didn’t respond. But when he could finally see Camelot up ahead, a wave of relief washed over him. He hurried his horse along, racing to the courtyard.

“I need Gaius!” he yelled at the knights assembled in the courtyard, jumping off of his horse, and cradling Merlin in his arms as he lifted him down from the saddle, heading towards Gaius’ quarters.

“Sire? What happened?” Gaius asked, meeting Arthur at the top of the stairs, following along beside him as they walked.

“There were some bandits, and Merlin took a blow from one of them, and he fell onto his arm.” Arthur swallowed for a moment. “There was a snap.”

Gaius raised his eyebrow at him. “Did he hit his head?”

“I believe so,” Arthur replied. “I tried to keep him alert as best as I could on the way back, but…”

“You did the best you could, sire. Let me take it from here,” Gaius said, opening the door to his room. “Lay him on the cot there, if you would.”

Arthur gently set Merlin down, brushing a piece of Merlin’s hair off of his forehead before he could stop himself.

Arthur’s throat felt dry taking in the sight of Merlin lying there. “Is there anything I can do Gaius?”

Gaius shook his head. “You’ve done all you can. You should go get some rest for now—it’s still early. I’ll let you know if there’s any updates tonight.”

“Thank you, Gaius.” Arthur nodded, and started to mechanically walk out of the room. His bones felt stiff, the adrenaline of all that had transpired leaving him all at once. Sure, he and Merlin had unfortunately encountered many life and death situations but this time...this time was different. And Arthur wasn’t sure just what he was supposed to do now.

Arthur made it to his chambers quicker than he thought possible. He struggled changing out of his armour and chainmail, his fingers seeming to fight him the entire time, before finally taking it off and leaving it all in a heap on his table.

He made haste, changing out of his tunic and trousers into his nighttime wear, before collapsing on top of his bed and crawling under the covers, trying to wish away all that had transpired from his mind's eye.

Arthur tried to forget what happened, to change the history in his mind, but all he could see was Merlin’s golden eyes, his hand outstretched, as bandits flew through the air around them. The slice of the sword to Merlin’s arm, his head colliding with the hard ground.

A wave of bile rose in his throat that he quickly tried to push down. Gods, Merlin was hurt because of _him_ , because he protected him.

Protected him, Prince Arthur of Camelot, even though he was a sorcerer.

And, gods, how could _Merlin_ of all people be a sorcerer? It just didn’t compute. Sorcerers were evil and only brought tragedy along in their wake, and they didn’t try to protect others. Especially not the Prince of Camelot.

And it wasn’t even just that. Merlin had lied to him for so long it made him want to punch something in frustration. Here Arthur was, telling Merlin that he knew him. No wonder Merlin reacted that way earlier—Arthur didn’t know him at all.

Arthur could feel the rage burning inside of himself. What a fool he must look for putting so much trust in one person. How pathetic to care so much. What had he told Merlin? No man is worth your tears. _Ha, look at me now_ , he thought, as he felt wet, hot tears start to drip down his face. Shoving his face into his pillow, he let them fall.

The sting of betrayal felt razor sharp the more his mind lingered.

He sniffed, wiping at his face, the sting giving way to pure melancholy. Arthur felt like a complete mess. At any given moment he could feel—what felt like—an insurmountable number of things. Anger, worry, sadness, _guilt_ , it all ate at him as he laid there, time ticking away.

He tossed and turned, trying to tune out his thoughts. _Just let me rest_ , Arthur all but begged himself, _I just need a moment to rest_.

His thoughts swirled as he drifted asleep; flashes of golden eyes, shouting, and Merlin laying crumpled on the ground, gave way to blankness, and, finally, he slept.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Despite the turmoil he was feeling inside of himself, Arthur desperately wanted to see if Merlin was okay. After his short-lived, pitiful nap, the rest of the day seemed to drag on and on as he kept to his room, and although he tried to keep his mind focused on writing a report, he quickly gave up, deciding to head to Merlin and Gaius’ chambers. But what could he say? He couldn’t even comprehend what he was feeling, let alone find the words to convey all of it clearly and rationally.

Arthur groaned, slumping in his chair, his head in his hands. Gods, maybe he should just write down everything to see if he could make sense of the chaos inside of himself. If he couldn’t handle speaking to Merlin, he would do just that. He needed to do something to help give him clarity.

But for now, he just needed to see him.

He pushed away from the table, uncaring that he wasn’t properly dressed, and headed to see Merlin, hoping Gaius would let him in.

He made the trip quickly, coming upon Gaius’ door before he knew it. He stood in front of it for a moment, trying to gather himself. He knocked on the door, hesitantly.

“Arthur, come in,” Gaius said, seemingly not surprised to see Arthur before motioning him inside.

“I know you said you’d update me if there were any changes, but I wanted to see Merlin myself, if that’s at all possible,” Arthur said, wincing as Gaius looked him over. He could only imagine how he looked.

“His arm is broken and he has a bit of a concussion,” Gaius told him. “Your bandage work helped to stop the bleeding until I could get it stitched up and his arm set. He’ll be on bed rest for a few days until his concussion is better, and I’m working on a poultice now that he’ll need for his head at night... I’m thankful you got him here in time.”

“I’m—I’m glad to hear that; I tried my best,” Arthur said, a feeling of relief momentarily overwhelming him as he realized that Merlin would be okay. He paused for a moment before asking, “Am I able to go see him?”

“He’s asleep, sire, but if you’re quiet…” Gaius trailed off. “He needs his rest.”

Arthur nodded in agreement, feeling tired himself as he walked over to Merlin’s room.

He made his way quietly into the room, looking over at Merlin as he slept before he grabbed a chair from Merlin's desk against the wall and sat down. Even though he felt relieved that Merlin was alive and _safe_ , he couldn’t stop reliving the scene in his mind over and over.

All he could think about was the flash of gold in Merlin’s eyes. Merlin was a sorcerer. _A sorcerer_. How was he supposed to reconcile all he knew about magic and sorcerers with _Merlin_? And gods, would he always be this angry? The kind of anger that simmered at the surface of his skin, that if left to fester, he didn’t know what would happen.

And just how long had Merlin been actively lying to him? He couldn’t help but frown as he recalled all that he thought he knew about Merlin—he knew that he preferred berries over any other fruit, that his red neckerchief was his favourite, that he had a soft spot for small children, was a skilled physician even if he didn’t believe it himself, that he put others before himself no matter what, and that he was the best manservant, friend, _everything_ , that Arthur could ever ask for.

But this? Magic was such a part of him and it was an utter mystery to Arthur. Something he might have never learned, never been told about.

And what was Arthur supposed to do now? Tell his father? Keep it a secret? How many secrets could he keep? He had never felt the weight of knowing something as much as knowing this.

With a deep sigh, he forced himself to stand. He couldn’t help but reach out a hand towards Merlin, but stopped himself as Merlin muttered a quiet, “Arthur,” in his sleep.

He pulled his hand back, his thoughts jumbled as he turned away from Merlin, leaving the room.

How could he trust and care so much for someone that he was taught to hate?

“He’ll be alright, sire,” Gaius called out to him as Arthur made his way down the steps from Merlin’s room.

Arthur offered him a tight smile in return. “I trust that he will.”

Gaius gave him another once over, before asking, “Are you okay, Arthur? I promise there’s no need to worry.”

Ha, there was so much to worry about. “It’s nothing you can help with.”

Gaius just continued to look at him concerned.

Arthur wasn’t sure what to say. What could he say? “Get some rest, Gaius, it’s been a trying day.”

Gaius nodded, looking as if he wanted to say something but didn’t. “Tomorrow will be better.”

Arthur could only wish.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

The next morning, Arthur awoke to the sun shining brightly into his eyes, and a loud knock on his door.

He groaned, turning over onto his stomach, shoving his face into his pillow.

The knocking was insistent. “Prince Arthur!” He recognized Sir Leon’s voice. “The King wishes to see you in the throne room.”

Arthur tensed at that, hurriedly getting out of bed, making his way over to the door, and opening it slightly. “Thank you, Sir Leon.”

Leon just blinked at him in return.

Arthur looked at him, confused for a moment, before realizing he was standing there in just his pants. He coughed, embarrassed, before nodding at Leon in thanks, slowly closing the door, and leaning against it. If Merlin had been on time, this wouldn’t have happened! He needed to get dressed, get ready for the day, have breakfast for goodness sake, and where was—

Merlin.

_Oh_.

Yesterday’s events came rushing back to him in a hurry. And now he had to see his father? It wasn’t—he didn’t have enough time.

He buried his face in his hands for a moment, trying not to let out a scream, as he collected himself. Whatever his father wanted to know, Arthur would tell him what he wanted to hear. He tried to reassure himself that maybe this would have nothing to do with yesterday and Arthur was stressing over this for nothing.

Arthur snorted at that thought. Like anything could be that easy for him.

Arthur raced to get dressed, haphazardly pulling on his trousers and tunic, and all but wrestling his boots on. 

There was another knock at the door. “Prince Arthur, the King is waiting.”

Muttering to himself, he ran a quick comb through his hair, hoping for the best, as he made his way to the door.

Leon grimaced at Arthur as he closed the door behind him. That was starting to become a common look. “Sire, if I may, are you all right?”

Arthur held back a groan as they walked. “I’ve never been better Leon, isn’t it obvious?”

Leon smiled slightly at Arthur’s sarcasm. “Yes, it’s clearly and utterly obvious. However, I do worry though about what your father may say…”

“He’s in that good of a mood is he?”

Leon gave him a sideways glance.

“Leon, I thought we were past this at this point in our lives, you can speak freely with me.”

“He’s, well, upset that you were attacked...” Leon started to say.

“More like upset someone tried to stage an attack on royalty in Camelot, and that I didn’t come to him directly yesterday,” Arthur interrupted.

Leon hesitated for a moment, and Arthur could tell he agreed. “It’s only been a few weeks since the delegation from Mercia left and how...poorly that went, and with winter coming plus how hard the crops have been hit, he’s a little on edge.”

Arthur sighed. “Yeah, I was afraid of that.” The two of them stopped briefly outside the doors to the council chambers. “Thank you, Sir Leon.”

“Sire.” Leon nodded.

Arthur took a deep breath and headed inside. The door closed behind him with a thud, and he became acutely aware of his nerves. He knew what his father wanted to talk about, but was he ready?

“Arthur,” Uther called out, waving a hand towards him, motioning for him to take a seat.

“Father,” Arthur replied, sitting down at his father’s right hand.

“What happened on the hunting trip? I’ve heard the accounts from the knights who searched the area, but since you chose to not inform me directly like you should have,” Uther said. “I need to know what you remember now, Arthur.”

Arthur held steady. “As I’m sure you are aware, my manservant and I were attacked by bandits. We managed to escape them. Merlin was hurt in an attempt to protect me. There was nothing more.”

Uther narrowed his eyes at his nonchalant answer. “Lord Bayard had mentioned before the delegation left that they had heard of a group of magic users stealing from those they came across. Was there any magic used?”

“There was no magic used against me,” Arthur said, trying to appear calm. It was technically true.

“It was relayed to me by Sir Galahad that the attack appeared to be two against ten. Now, while I can admit that your swordsmanship is superior, your servant, however, is a liability. So, I will ask you again: was any magic used?” Uther persisted through gritted teeth.

Arthur could feel the tension rise within him. Did he suspect that Merlin used magic to protect him? Even though that was true, he couldn’t help but wonder if someone saw them, or tipped Uther off.

Nevertheless, he needed to decide at this moment what he was willing to do. Could he condemn Merlin? Who knows what his father might say or do if he said the bandits used magic. Would he even believe him? Or did he think that something else was afoot?

“I will admit that we were overwhelmed for a moment, but we were able to fight back quickly. While Merlin, yes, often does not shine in certain circumstances he stepped up, fought, and saved my life. One of the last remaining bandits had closed in on me after we had chased the rest off, and Merlin took the hit aimed for me,” Arthur said, steeling himself, as he stared straight at his father. “There was no magic involved, _from anyone_. It was just your standard run-of-the-mill bandits.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

Arthur puffed out his chest, sitting ramrod straight in his seat. “Yes, I wouldn’t lie to you father.” He could feel the beat of his heart pick up, pulsing in his veins. He could show nothing to his father, give nothing away.

“What do you remember of the bandits? Did anything stand out to you?” Uther questioned.

Arthur tried to remember as he thought back to the fight. “Nothing unusual, sire. Though on their swords was the insignia of a trident.”

“The symbol of Mercia.”

“I believe so.”

Uther stroked his chin for a moment, thinking. “Bayard could have discretely sent the bandits to attack you, or any knight that they came across as retribution for the imposed tariff on their crops after our talks fell through…”

“And he could have fed you the line about sorcerers so that you wouldn’t suspect him,” Arthur added. Anything to put him off Merlin’s scent, regardless if it was true or not.

Uther stared him down. “I’ll send a message to Mercia to make sure they know there will be consequences. This was an attempt on the crown prince, and we shall not forget that.” Uther tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, his gaze still tight on Arthur. “Take more guards with you when you hunt from now on. And if you remember something that you haven’t told me, come to me straight away.”

“Understood, father.”

Uther hmmed. “You are dismissed.”

Arthur nodded at his father, standing up from the table, his adrenaline crashing. Could his father tell that he was mostly lying to his face? But even if he bought what Arthur was saying, Arthur knew this was far from over. Any time there was a mention of magic, his father wouldn’t be able to let it go.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Arthur was all but holed up in his room after the debacle with his father. Only leaving his room when necessary over the course of the next day, he paced and paced around it, feeling worried and angry and _tired_. He groaned to himself, irritated. He wasn’t doing any good letting his thoughts get away from him. He needed to get back into things, even if it had only been two days since Merlin was hurt and one since he met with his father. Rather than just sit here and stew, he needed to do something.

He grabbed his armour, realizing with a pang, just what it meant for Merlin to be hurt, and headed to the armoury. He’d just get to training practice early. He couldn’t sit around anymore; he needed to get his mind off of everything.

Arthur hurriedly made his way there, wincing as he accidentally slammed the door open, causing all of the knights to jolt and look over to him.

He stood up straight. “As you were.”

Leon walked over to him immediately. “Here a little bit early, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, sire,” Sir Kay added jokingly, from where he was standing near to them, his helmet in his hands. “Decided to grace us with your presence for even longer?”

Arthur let out a sharp laugh at that. “Figured they were tired of looking at your ugly mug.”

“Ha,” Kay laughed. “Bit of a downgrade to you then, innit?” He elbowed Arthur in the side.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yeah, laugh it up Kay, they’ll realize sooner than later you’re all brawn and no brains.”

“Wow,” Kay drawled, his hand pressed to his heart. “You expect that from Sir Galahad, but our own prince? Betrayed.”

“Okay, Sir Kay, why don’t you go finish helping the new knights prepare. Prince Arthur and I will join you momentarily,” Leon interjected.

Kay winked at them both before doing what he was told.

“Is everything all right, sire? Your entrance,” he trailed off for a moment. “Left something to be desired.”

Arthur snorted. “Thanks, Leon.”

“I’m serious. I know I may be overstepping, but you’ve been through a bit of an ordeal and it would be understandable for you to be worried, or frustrated, or anything...”

“Everything’s fine, Leon,” Arthur said, lying through his teeth, again. “No need to worry about me.”

He could tell that Leon didn’t believe him, but he thankfully let it drop. He nodded at Arthur as Arthur turned to continue getting ready.

Arthur could still feel the anger simmering away as he led practice. Though he was thankful for Leon as he made sure to step in now and again. But even with the routine of practice, Arthur still felt frustrated, at himself, at this situation, and he couldn’t help but let out some of his anger as he sparred with the knights. Knight after knight that he faced, he attacked, not letting them breath as he pounced, knocking them down one after another. He could feel his anger returning unabated.

“Prince Arthur,” Leon said, resting his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, gripping him reassuringly for a moment. “Take a break, you’re scaring the new knights.”

Arthur took a breath, wiping at his sweaty brow, to see a few young knights cowering at the sight of him. He grimaced, annoyed at himself for how he was acting, but there was so much uncontrolled rage inside of him.

“Sir Kay, can you go set up the punching bag for the Prince? We’ll be there in a moment,” Leon said, pulling Arthur away from the group.

“Arthur, I’m going to ask you again, what is going on with you?” Leon asked, concerned.

Arthur felt a wave of shame roll over him. “Like I told you before, it’s nothing, Leon. Though I should go apologize to those knights…”

Leon laughed a bit at that. “A little healthy dose of fear won’t hurt them, but I am concerned about you. I haven’t seen you act that way before. What happened?”

Arthur shook his head. “Nothing to concern yourself over, Leon. I’m handling it.”

“Ah, so something did happen.”

Arthur had no response to that as Leon pressed on. “Are you worried about Merlin? You know what happened wasn’t your fault.”

_Ha_ , Arthur thought, his chunk of the blame was not light by any means. “Right,” Arthur managed to mutter.

Leon continued to gaze at him, worried, and Arthur didn’t know what to say. He had already lied to his father, could he keep the lies going or just say nothing? What was better? Both already weighed on his conscience, but he couldn’t out Merlin as being a sorcerer, even if there was a chance that Arthur believed that Leon would understand.

Kay had set up the punching bag and Leon led Arthur over to it. “Here,” Leon said. “Take out your frustrations on this. I’ll let the knights know we'll have another training session in a few days. And if you need to talk when you’re done, I’m here.”

It was times like this that Arthur felt thankful to have a knight and friend like Leon, even if he didn’t deserve him. “Thank you, Leon.”

“We’re always here for you sire, don’t forget that.” Leon patted him on the shoulder, walking away, yelling out and gathering the knights’ attention.

Arthur took a deep breath, and steadily punched the bag, letting the routine of the hits take over his thoughts. He needed to calm down, steady himself. If he could just clear his head for a bit, reason with himself, then maybe, he could think of what best to do about his father and what he should do about _Merlin_. Gods, he hated feeling like this.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, pummeling the punching bag, before he heard Leon call out his name.

Arthur blinked, his arms feeling sore, as he realized the sun was starting to set.

“How long have I been out here?” Arthur all but croaked.

Leon grimaced. “Too long. I should have come and got you sooner, but you looked like you needed...” He waved his hand for a moment. “This.”

“It’s all right, I think—I think it did me some good.” And it had, at least a little bit. And that was better than what he started with. “I can take it from here, Leon,” Arthur continued. “I appreciate everything you’ve done today.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, sire,” Leon said, clapping Arthur on the shoulder once again.

“Tomorrow,” Arthur agreed.

He watched Leon leave, gathering what he could and heading back to the armoury to change. Methodically, he took off his armour, his mind racing. Maybe he really should write down what he was feeling… And okay, he could hear Merlin laughing at him about that idea (which only stung him a little) but maybe, just maybe, it would help him gather his thoughts.

After placing his armour in its set place, he took off to his room, determined. Arthur made it there quickly, making sure to ask the guards to make sure he was not disturbed unless absolutely necessary.

Arthur felt sure in this choice, and clung to the hope that it would help. He grabbed his sleepwear, and made sure to get out a small basin to wash himself. 

He smiled to himself. If only Merlin could see him now; he wasn’t so useless after all. But the smile faded swiftly as he realized yet again why Merlin wasn’t here to help him. Maybe he should think about getting a new servant, but the thought only left him with an ache in his chest.

He washed himself as best he could, wrapping his bruised and blistered fingers, before pulling on his sleeping trousers and tunic, and grabbing a blank parchment and quill, then settling himself in his desk chair.

He stared at the parchment, flexing his fingers, not knowing where to begin. 

Gods, this was why Merlin wrote his speeches. How is he meant to form the words to describe how he feels? _Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea_ , Arthur thought, feeling sullen.

No, he could do this. He had to do this. 

He dipped his quill in the ink, and decided to write whatever came to mind. It wasn’t like anyone else would see this.

And so he wrote, “I hate the fact that I don’t hate you even though I was taught to. I don’t hate you even a little bit, not even at all. I’m frustrated. What does that mean?”

And further down, “Why did you lie to me for so long? How could you pretend to be my friend? Did you care for me at all? And why does the chance that you don’t care at all bother me so much?”

Again, “I can’t pretend that the thought didn’t cross my mind that I should be afraid of you. That I should tell my father immediately that you have magic—that you’re evil and everything I’ve been taught to hate. I’ve never been more conflicted.”

The words were flowing out of him now: “It’s hard to look at you right now. I’m enraged, tired, scared, and hopeful, all at the same time. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I think I care too much. I don’t know what I would do without you. I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”

“Why did you have to use magic? I almost wish I didn’t know.”

And on it went, before Arthur stopped, feeling exhausted, but better. He looked down at the parchment and wondered: what if he gave these notes to Merlin? 

He couldn’t talk to Merlin in person, not right now—he still needed time—but this? This could work. And if Merlin didn’t want to hear from him, Arthur was sure he would find a way to let him know.

Disregarding that it was starting to get late, Arthur got up, grabbing his sheet of parchment, folding it delicately, and headed to Merlin before he could change his mind.

Though, as he walked, the more he began to second guess himself. But no, he could do this. All he had to do was head to Gaius’ chambers and simply drop off the note. That was it. In and out in no time flat. 

Arthur sighed, as he really was getting tired of lying to himself. There was no way it would be that simple. But he needed to do this.

“Arthur,” Uther called out, stopping him in his tracks, a hallway away from Merlin. “There you are. I’ve just received a missive back from Lord Bayard. Meet me in the throne room now, there’s something we need to discuss.”

Arthur felt a wave of dread wash over him.

He slowly made his way to the throne room, feeling as though he could see what was coming but wasn’t sure he would be able to stop it.

He’d never known how to be a good liar. Morgana had always told him that he wore his heart on his sleeve.

But he would have to be, for this.

“Arthur, Lord Bayard made mention that he did not and does not know of the bandits that attacked you. There is something here that is not adding up. There must be something that you missed,” Uther insisted.

“There was nothing else of note," Arthur replied. "I do believe they recognized me, even though I was in plain clothes, and it was that realization that made them persist. But there was nothing out of the ordinary that happened. They attacked us, and we defended ourselves and drove them away.” Arthur couldn’t understand why his father kept harping on this. What did he believe happened?

“The king made mention of something interesting: he wrote, ‘I managed to arrest one of these bandits, and he said something you may wish to know during his confession: the boy had magic.’” Uther once again stared Arthur down. “The only reason I haven’t called for Merlin’s immediate execution is because of your word that he saved your life.”

Arthur felt like he was going to pass out. “So you trust the word of a bandit over that of your son?” Arthur asked. “Of course a bandit is going to blame the fact that their attempt on my life failed because of magic. They’re just trying to distract you, sire. To turn your attention away from them. They could be plotting against you as we speak. You must know this.”

“Watch your tongue,” Uther all but spat.

“Sire, please, what do I have to gain from lying to you? They’re trying to tear us apart. You must realize this.” Arthur took a breath, knowing what he had to say next. “You know that I believe that there is no place for magic in Camelot.” Arthur kept his face smooth, imploring his father to believe his lies. There was magic in the heart of Camelot, and he was starting to come to terms with how much it meant to him.

Uther appeared to be mulling over Arthur’s words. He could only hope that Uther would believe him. Though he didn’t doubt that Mercia was actively trying to distract them, especially with the peace talks ending at a stand still only a few weeks ago.

Uther rubbed his chin. “I wouldn’t put it past Bayard to do what you’re suggesting. Especially after the _interesting_ talks we had.” He looked Arthur over. “And it does seem preposterous that _that boy_ would have magic. Clumsiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Exactly, father. They’re grasping at straws. They have nothing,” Arthur said, feeling a small bit of relief course through him. “There’s absolutely no chance that Merlin is a sorcerer. If he was, I would know, but he’s nothing but an idiot.”

Uther chuckled, walking over to Arthur and slapping a hand on his back. “You’re right, son. We mustn't let Mercia try and distract us, but I’m going to keep a close eye on Merlin. While he may not be a sorcerer, there must have been a reason that they decided to explicitly mention him.”

“Well, there was only the two of us, sire,” Arthur said before he could stop him.

Uther shot him a dark look. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

“Goodnight, father,” Arthur said, turning to leave. He kept his shoulders back, trying to feign nonchalance.

“Remember what I said,” Arthur heard his father say as the door shut behind him.

How could he forget?

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Even though Arthur was a little shaken from his talk with his father, he continued on to Gaius’ chambers. He, too, would have to keep a close eye on Merlin. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let his father suspect a thing. If there was one thing that he was realizing, it was that Merlin didn’t deserve the fate that met sorcerers who crossed the path of Uther Pendragon. He deserved better. Magic users deserved better. From here on out he would do what he could to make their lives easier; it was the least that he could do.

Arthur knocked on the door, a sense of foreboding overtaking him, his nerves once again a wreck. Gods, he was one of the most feared swordsmen in all the lands and here he was shaking and sweating over even the thought of having to speak to another man.

“Sire, can I help you?” Gaius asked, opening the door.

A sense of deja vu washed over him. “Is it okay if I go and see Merlin? I, uh, have something for him.” He lifted the folded parchment up for Gaius to see.

Gaius pursed his lips for a moment. “He’s asleep, sire, but I can give that to him in the morning.”

This is what Arthur wanted, but why didn’t it feel right? “Are you sure I can’t just...peek in for a moment. I won’t bother him, I just want to see with my own eyes that he’s okay.”

“I really shouldn’t,” Gaius trailed off.

“Please,” Arthur implored.

Gaius nodded. “Oh, all right, but just this once. He still needs his rest.”

“Is he doing better then?” Arthur asked as he walked into the room.

“Slowly, but yes, he is improving.”

“That’s—that’s good,” Arthur said, feeling relieved.

“Hmm,” Gaius said, stopping at his table. “While you’re here, you can help, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Arthur said, willing to do almost anything at this point. He was already committing treason...what was a little physician’s work?

“Merlin needs three drops of this ointment. You can add the drops to this poultice and then dab it gently onto his forehead. It’s best administered at night and helps with his headaches. I forgot to have him do this before he fell asleep, so this will have to do,” Gaius instructed. “It’ll be easier this way anyways.”

“And if he wakes up?” Arthur asked.

Gaius merely raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure you can relay the information I just told you.”

Arthur smiled weakly. “Of course.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much; that boy has been sleeping through everything. If you’re going to sit with him, you can care for him.”

Arthur felt a pang in his chest. “Of course,” he repeated.

“Now, off with you,” Gaius shooed. “Let an old man rest.”

Arthur nodded and walked up the stairs to Merlin’s room. He slowly opened the door, peeking in to see Merlin fast asleep, sprawled as best as he could across his bed.

He shook his head, closing the door softly behind him. Making his way over to him, he grabbed a chair and sat it next to Merlin’s bed. He put his note down on the bedside table where Merlin could easily see it in the morning, and then sat down in the chair.

He felt a sense of relief looking at Merlin who looked soft and peaceful in his sleep. Had he ever noticed how beautiful Merlin could be? Grabbing the ointment, he gingerly dotted the poultice with the amount Gaius prescribed. Brushing Merlin’s hair away from his face, he noticed Merlin’s skin felt warm to the touch as his thumb caressed Merlin’s forehead. He gently dabbed the ointment onto it, taking care to not disturb him.

Merlin sighed quietly as Arthur moved his hand away from him, mumbling something in his sleep that Arthur couldn’t discern.

Arthur sat still, taking in the quiet around him, only Merlin’s soft breaths filling the room. It made him realize how much he truly missed Merlin. Sure, there were points in and out of each day that he took notice of Merlin not being around, but this, seeing him here, his arm bandaged and sleeping, it made him realize just how much the lack of his presence impacted Arthur.

With his father’s constant shadow, Arthur would have to be careful when he came to see Merlin, if he did again. Oh, who was he kidding? He couldn’t deny this magnetic pull towards Merlin even if he wanted to. But he knew that if he were to slip up, to say something or give something away to his father, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. But here, in this moment, he felt content. It was more than he expected.

He had never been more thankful for Merlin.

And so he sat, and watched over Merlin, letting himself breathe for the first time in days.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Arthur couldn’t stay away after that regardless of the risk. It was easier to think, to breathe, when he could just sit and take care and watch over Merlin. He could only imagine what his knights, or god forbid Guinevere would say if they knew he was doing this (oh gods, it was so incredibly weird of him, wasn’t it? Just him watching over Merlin as he slept). And well, one could add it to the laundry list of things he didn’t like to think about, which seemed to be increasing at each passing day.

The only sign he knew that Merlin was reading his notes is that each night he stopped by, they were gone. It was possible that Merlin was just throwing them away, or wasn’t aware who they were from (it’s not like Arthur was signing them), but something deep within him knew that Merlin was reading them.

“Back again, sire?” Gaius asked, sighing. “I thought you weren’t going to make this a habit?”

Arthur felt a little sheepish. “Well, I really...don’t know what to say.”

Gaius hmmphed. “Well, if you’re here, I’m sure you remember the drill...”

“I do, Gaius, thanks,” Arthur said, moving to leave before stopping for a moment. “Has Merlin said anything…”

“About you?” Gaius questioned. 

Arthur shrugged as Gaius looked at him the same way he always seemed to lately, a little exasperated, a little disappointed, and a little bit proud.

“Nothing untoward if that’s what you’re wondering,” Gaius said before pausing. “Give him time, sire. He’s working through this just as you are. I believe he’s more afraid than you are. I know your father is bearing down on you, but I trust you, sire. I know you will do what’s best. I am thankful for all that you’ve done so far, and your choices.”

Gaius’ faith in him left him staggered. He nodded at him, too overwhelmed to say anything back as he walked to Merlin’s room.

Every time he walked in here now, he felt his shoulders drop and the stress of everything in his life drift away. Sure, he realized how creepy this was to just...watch Merlin sleep as he cared for him, but what else could he do? Talk to him during the daylight hours? Absurd.

This, for now, was easier.

He dropped his note (“I wish I knew the real you. Or do I? You have never seemed as such a mystery to me as you do now” and “I’m sorry...”) onto its place on Merlin’s bedside table, and for a moment Arthur wondered what Merlin thought of them. Did he care as much as Arthur did?

Arthur settled into his chair, noting that it had seemingly been placed here, waiting for him.

With a pang, he got the ointment ready, smoothing the frown lines from Merlin’s forehead with his fingers, before dabbing the poultice against his skin gently.

As he pulled the poultice away, he heard Merlin mumble, “Arthur” in his sleep. Arthur felt as if his heart stopped for a moment as he sat there frozen, his heartbeat quickening, and a flutter in his stomach.

“It’s alright, Merlin,” he whispered, his hand moving to gently run through Merlin’s hair. “I’m here.”

Merlin sighed in what seemed like contentment.

Arthur smiled before leaning back in his chair, his hand slowly falling away from Merlin.

Even if Arthur wasn’t able to fully comfort Merlin in person, he hoped this helped Merlin at least a little bit. Arthur knew that it helped him.

He had never been more thankful that Merlin was such a deep sleeper. He didn’t want to think about if Merlin was just feigning sleep, and then this whole thing would just turn excruciatingly awkward…

Arthur shook his head. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t think like that, all these what if’s—it was just adding to his conflicting feelings. Knowing he should hate Merlin but couldn’t. Knowing that each day that passed, Uther could accuse Merlin of being a sorcerer on a whim, and what he would do if that happened, and just what were these butterflies in his stomach at the sight of Merlin?

Arthur couldn’t help but sit there and think: what did he do to deserve Merlin?

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

And so the cycle repeated. Arthur continued to avoid Merlin during the daylight hours, and tended to him at night and left him notes in his wake. All of it, slowly but surely made him realize that those butterflies he was feeling were a result of the fact that he was in love with Merlin. 

Oh gods, _he was in love with Merlin_. 

It made his stomach feel queasy and his heart fluttered every time he thought those words. What was he supposed to do now that he had a name for the feeling? Tell him? Arthur almost shuddered at the thought.

So instead, Arthur was morosely staring out the window down to the battlements, hating that he still felt like there was a war raging inside of himself, with the addition of his newly realized feelings. He was tired of beating himself up over them, but he just couldn’t make sense of anything.

He hated that his father had put him in this position. He hated that he had to lie for Merlin. But most of all, he hated himself for feeling this way. He felt as if he was wearing his heart on his sleeve and it was just waiting to get stomped on.

Gods, how could he fall in love with his servant? Who was a sorcerer, nonetheless?

Arthur laughed to himself before putting his head in his hands, sighing.

It was as he did this that Guinevere found him. “Sire?” he heard her ask from behind him.

He tried to gather himself quickly as he turned around, pasting on a smile. “Guinevere, lovely to see you.”

She looked at him, nonplussed. “Is everything okay?”

Arthur was truly starting to get irritated by that question. “Everything’s fine,” he lied. He was just in love with Merlin, who had magic, that’s all. It was fine, _everything was fine_.

Gwen continued to give him a look. “If I may say so, Prince Arthur, you need a break,” she said matter-of-factly. “And I know just what you should do.”

“ _Guinevere_ ,” Arthur stressed. “I don’t have time for a break. I’ve wasted enough time today that my duties—”

“With all due respect, sire, your duties can wait,” Gwen stated, seeming surprised at herself for saying so. “Sometimes you have to put yourself first.”

Arthur was rendered speechless, unsure of how to argue with that, or if he even wanted to.

“And I have just the thing for you to do,” Gwen said with a bright, encouraging smile. “Why don’t you and I head down to town and have a walk around. The market should be bustling. I have a few Yule gifts I still have to buy as well.”

Arthur sighed, giving in. “Let’s meet back here in five minutes or so? We can leave then.”

Gwen beamed at him. “Sounds like a plan, sire.”

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Arthur muttered as he pulled his blue cloak tighter around himself, his hood covering his head.

“You can’t fool me, sire. I know how much you love coming down here and walking around, seeing the people of Camelot,” Gwen said, shooting Arthur a smile as they made their way to the Camelot market.

She was right, of course. Arthur really did enjoy sneaking out of the castle and walking the grounds, seeing what was happening in the heart of Camelot. To really understand how to help his people, he knew he needed to be where they were, not rule from afar.

“And I know you haven’t even begun thinking of what to do for Yule, have you?” Gwen continued.

“No,” he admitted. “I normally have Merlin run and get everything for me.” Arthur did love Yule, but he didn’t enjoy shopping. And well, he knew that he wasn't the best gift giver no matter how hard he tried to be.

“Of course,” Gwen said. “But now, I’m here, and I can help.”

“Isn’t it a little early for this though?” Arthur asked. “We’ve barely gotten our first snow.”

“Nonsense. It just means that this year, you’re going to be prepared. Now, let’s get us something warm to drink to start off.” And so Gwen dragged him from stall to stall, talking to each seller, and waving to each and every person she knew.

It was times like these that he realized Guinevere was better than all of them. 

When they made it to their final stop (“it’s the last place, Arthur, honestly” she had said to his grumbling about how “hadn’t they shopped enough? Was there even a stall left to visit?”), it immediately gave Arthur pause.

He couldn’t help but notice the neckerchiefs hanging near the back of the stall. Should he? Would Merlin even want one from him?

He clicked his tongue, annoyed at himself. Turning away he came across some plain tunics, the purple one standing out to him.

“Oh, that is a lovely colour isn’t it?” Gwen said, peering over Arthur’s shoulder.

“Hmm, yes, I suppose it is,” Arthur answered.

“A royal colour one might say,” Gwen said with a wink.

Arthur grasped the fabric, feeling the soft cotton of the tunic which reminded him of his own favorite white one. It wouldn’t hurt for Merlin to wear something a little more befitting of his station. He was a servant to the prince, after all.

And well, if he was ever—

No. Arthur shut that thought down immediately. He noticed Gwen looking at him, seeming a bit worried, and as if she was going to question him but ultimately did not, and for that he was thankful.

“I think I see some jewelry over there that Morgana might love. I’ll be right back,” Gwen said, giving him some space.

Before he could change his mind he grabbed the purple tunic and headed over to the neckerchiefs, grabbing a blue one that reminded him of Merlin’s eyes, and then made his way to the seller to pay for his purchases before he could change his mind.

He stuffed the blue neckerchief into his cloak pocket quickly after paying, taking heed to have the purple tunic sent to the castle, appropriately wrapped for Yule.

And there was one other thing that Arthur could give him, but...could he? Would he? He thought about his mother’s sigil, wrapped and sitting in the drawer next to his bed. He would often take it out and hold it, thinking of her.

Gods, would Merlin even want it? The significance of Arthur giving the sigil to Merlin wouldn’t go unnoticed. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the rejection.

“Sire?” Gwen asked, jolting Arthur out of his thoughts. “Have you found everything you need?”

“Oh, Guinevere, yes, I think I’m done,” Arthur said, smiling. “How have you fared?”

Guinevere laced her arm through his, pulling him along. “Oh excellently, sire. I do believe this trip was a success in more ways than one.”

Arthur couldn’t help but smile at that. It really was.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

The blue neckerchief was taunting Arthur.

After retiring for the night and putting away some of his purchases—there sat the blue neckerchief. Arthur felt like it was mocking him. A sign of his affection for Merlin that he knew could and would never be returned.

And yet, he felt as if he should wrap the neckerchief around his mother’s sigil, the ultimate sign of how he felt, to give to Merlin.

He walked over to his bedside drawer, taking the sigil out, feeling the weight of it in his hands. It was one of the only things that he had in his possession that was his mother’s, the other being the ring he constantly wore on his pointer finger. But this sigil meant a lot to him. It carried the weight of his mother’s name, his mother’s love, and he didn’t take that for granted. To give this to someone would be a sign of utter and all encompassing love.

Suddenly, there was a knock on Arthur’s door. Slightly confused as to who would be at his door, Arthur got up, shoving the now neckerchief-wrapped sigil back into his bedside drawer, and made his way over to the door, opening it to see Sir Leon standing there.

“Sire, I shouldn’t be here, but the King is about to search Merlin’s chambers for evidence of being a sorcerer,” Leon said, his eyes darting back and forth from Arthur to their surroundings making sure he wasn’t overheard.

“What?” Arthur asked, abruptly feeling wide awake. “I thought he had given that up? I thought he believed me…”

Leon just shot him a look in response.

How naive of him. “I should have known better,” Arthur muttered. He could stop this. “Will I make it in time if I leave now?”

Leon nodded. “Hurry.”

Arthur slammed the door behind him, tossing a sincere “thank you” Leon’s way, before running to Gaius’ chambers.

He prayed to everything that Merlin knew better than to leave anything magical out in the open in his room. Arthur had never seen anything, but he knew his father would tear Merlin’s room apart.

He had never felt more frustrated with his father. Yes, technically, Arthur was and did lie to him, but it wasn’t a lie that Bayard was actively trying to cause chaos now that the talks were over. Why couldn’t his father focus on that? Merlin had done nothing wrong, had protected him, and yet his father wouldn’t rest.

He would never be a king like that. To rule with only fear and power—it only led to misery.

Arthur felt sick to his stomach as he saw that he was too late, the guards and Uther were already tearing Gaius’ and Merlin’s rooms apart.

“Father, what are you doing?” Arthur asked, barging into the room. Gaius and Merlin both jumped in surprise, but Uther merely raised an eyebrow at him. Arthur stood directly in front of his father, attempting to demand his attention.

“Finding evidence that your manservant here is a sorcerer,” Uther replied, lazily waving a hand to a guard to confirm he should look through a cabinet.

“Sire, I have already told you, multiple times now, that Merlin is _not_ a sorcerer,” Arthur said. “Does my word mean nothing to you?”

He desperately hoped that Merlin would remain silent and not give anything away as Arthur spoke.

“Arthur,” Uther began, a condescending tilt to his voice. “I heard you, but there are other factors at play here and I will leave no stone unturned.”

“This is absolutely preposterous,” Arthur said, feeling himself becoming agitated by Uther’s tone. “I will give up my crown if something is found. That’s how sure I am of this. This whole debacle is a disgrace.”

“Arthur, no—” Merlin interjected, but Uther cut him down with a look.

“Watch what you say,” Uther said pointedly to Arthur. “One could almost think this boy has you enchanted.”

A chill ran down Arthur’s spine.

“I am not enchanted, sire,” Arthur said, speaking plainly. “I’m merely just trying to make you see that you are doing exactly what Bayard wants you to, and we cannot prove him right. There’s no telling what may be coming next.”

And for that Arthur couldn’t know for certain, but he knew that in this instance Bayard was simply trying to turn the court into a circus, and if something were to happen during that time, well, Bayard certainly wouldn’t be to blame—it would be the blame of magic, which had to be exactly what he wanted.

Uther didn’t respond to him, instead, continuing to direct guards in their search.

Arthur stood there, refusing to cower before Uther as nothing turned up. The guards searched and searched as Uther seemed to grow more frustrated.

The guards shared a look between themselves after some time had passed. “There’s nothing here, Your Majesty,” one guard spoke up. “There’s no sign of any sorcery.”

Uther ruminated on this for a moment before looking both Merlin and Gaius over. “So it seems that my son was correct,” he managed to spit out. “As you were.” He nodded to Arthur, the guards following behind him as he left the room.

Arthur felt dizzy from the sudden rush of relief.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin said earnestly before Arthur turned to leave.

Arthur held up a finger to his lips. Who knows who could still be listening, as his father had only just walked out the door.

Arthur nodded to them both, relief clear as day on all of their faces, as he took his leave. 

There weren’t enough words to express to them how he was feeling. He had stood up to his father and won. It was a start.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

“Rise and shine!”

Arthur blinked awake at the sound of the loud voice near the end of his bed. He squinted at whoever it was as they threw open the curtains, letting in the sunshine.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, confused. “What are you doing here?”

Merlin looked hurt for a moment, before recovering with what Arthur deemed to be a too-bright smile. “I’m still your servant, aren’t I?”

Arthur sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, letting the quilt on his bed pool in his lap. “Yes, but you’re still injured…”

“Well, yes,” Merlin conceded, looking a bit chagrined. “But I just wanted to make sure you were ready for the day.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

“And that’s all that Gaius would let me do at the moment, but it’s a start.”

Arthur laughed. “Now that sounds more like it.”

Merlin beamed at him, and Arthur sat there momentarily stunned. It had been too long since he’d seen Merlin smile, and for a smile like that to be directed at him...well, he wasn't about to take it for granted.

“But really, Merlin, you shouldn’t be here,” Arthur said. “You should be resting.”

“I’ve rested enough, sire, believe me,” Merlin said, shaking his head. “If I rest anymore, well, we can’t discuss it.”

Arthur titled his head at Merlin, scrutinizing him. “I won’t pretend that I want to understand what you mean.”

“Too right.” Merlin smiled.

Arthur rolled his eyes, feeling like nothing had changed between them and that this was just another normal day in his life. Merlin was here, and everything was just as it should be.

But with that thought, it all came crashing back down.

Right, Merlin had magic and Arthur was in love with him.

He froze where he sat, his heart racing slightly as Merlin continued to smile softly at him. Why did that smile make him feel weak in the knees? Arthur’s hands started to clam up, and oh gods, was he sweating? Butterflies took flight in his stomach as Merlin came closer, reaching out and touching Arthur’s shoulder where he sat.

Gods, why did love have to betray him like this? Couldn’t he just be cool, calm, and collected? Not this...this _mess_.

“Arthur, what’s wrong?” Merlin asked, concerned, his smile dropping a little.

_Oh, nothing, just that I’m an idiot and I’m in love with you and have completely lost the ability to act rationally around you when I think about it,_ Arthur thought.

“Nothing,” Arthur said instead, jumping up as Merlin let his hand fall off Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur missed his touch immediately. “Just...just realized all that I need to do today. Busy, busy, busy. You know being the prince and all.” He jumped out of bed, praying he wouldn’t blush under Merlin’s gaze and promptly hid behind his changing divider.

“I—” Merlin started to say.

Arthur winced from behind the divider, trying to resist the urge to face palm his forehead in embarrassment.

“Do you need anything?” Merlin called.

“No! Definitely do not need anything,” Arthur responded. Why couldn’t he act normally? He coughed, trying to will himself to be cool. “George will be here soon.”

“Oh, right, George, of course.” Arthur heard Merlin mumble to himself about “perfect _George”_ and he tried not to laugh.

“Well, if you need me, sire, you know where to find me,” Merlin said.

“I do, and thank you,” he replied.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Arthur.”

Arthur had a feeling that he definitely would, too.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Arthur was making his way to the council chambers when it happened.

He was running late, a hitch in his step as he tried to look as dignified as possible, hurrying along as fast as he could.

As he turned a corner sharply, his body collided with someone. Arthur let out an “oof” as he staggered back trying to stabilize himself, before reaching out to the other person to stop their fall. Arthur managed to grab them by the waist, steading them.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” Arthur said, as he held them for a moment. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“You don’t say, you great oaf,” he heard the other person say.

With a jolt, he realized the person he had almost run over was Merlin.

“Merlin!” He exclaimed, surprised, letting go of Merlin as if he had been burned.

“Hello, Arthur, fancy meeting you here,” Merlin said, giving Arthur a small smile.

“I didn’t hurt your arm, did I?” Arthur asked, reaching out and gingerly handling Merlin’s arm that was in a cast, his fingers brushing against Merlin’s own.

“No, no, it’s fine, sire,” Merlin replied. “No harm done.”

“Right, good.” Arthur nodded, releasing Merlin’s arm.

“Right,” Merlin drawled, his face a little pink as he flexed his fingers.

Arthur wasn’t sure what to make of that exactly, but he wasn’t fairing much better. He could feel the butterflies (oh god, the butterflies) in his stomach as he looked at Merlin.

As awkward as Arthur felt seeing Merlin again, he couldn’t help but soak in as much of Merlin’s presence that he could as if he was a dying man.

The two of them stood there, unspeaking, just staring at one another.

“Arthur—” 

“Merlin—” they spoke at the same time.

“You go,” Merlin said, gesturing for him to speak.

“Right, um, I need to go to a meeting,” Arthur said. “In the council chambers…”

“Of course, obviously, that’s why you’re here…” Merlin trailed off.

Arthur looked at him curiously. “What did you…”

Merlin gave him a look of alarm. “Nothing. No reason for why we would meet, absolutely no reason. No reason at all.”

“Ah, well, that clears that up,” Arthur said, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stop a smile. His heart beat a little faster.

“I do have to go, though.” He nodded to the chambers behind Merlin. “I’m already late,” he continued, gracelessly moving around Merlin, and moving backwards towards the door. _Good grief, man_ , Arthur thought to himself. _Pull yourself together_.

“I’ll see you,” Arthur said as he continued to make his way to the door. He smacked into the chamber door with a resounding thud.

He could feel himself flush in mortification.

“Bye Arthur.” Merlin waved as Arthur turned around, facing the proper way and opened the door.

Arthur closed the door behind him, sighing quietly, before straightening up and taking his seat.

He could think about Merlin later.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Arthur was trying to be present. He didn’t want to be the root cause of another disastrous training session with the knights, so here he was, alone in the armoury after making it through a successful training session (he didn’t even make a knight cry this time). He figured that was progress.

Arthur was pulled from his thoughts as he heard a loud clang from behind him, as if someone had dropped or tripped over some armour.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelped in surprise, almost dropping his helmet.

“I’m sorry, sire,” Merlin said, a hint of a smile on his face. “I thought you heard me call out your name.”

“No, I didn’t,” Arthur said stiffly, unsure suddenly of what to do.

“Consider it payback, then.” Merlin smiled before continuing, “Is there anything I can help you with? Do you need any company? Someone to throw things at? Erm, well…” Merlin scrunched his nose. “Maybe not that last one, but I can get you a dummy.”

“Uh, no, I am all good here,” Arthur said with a nod. “I’m just going to...take my things to my chambers.”

“What?” Merlin interjected, looking at him curiously. “You’re going to take your armour? To your chambers?”

“Yes, well, you know George. Always love a polish. Figured I’d save him a trip down here,” Arthur said, haphazardly grabbing the items he had managed to take off on his own.

“Do you need some help?” Merlin asked, continuing to look at Arthur slightly concerned.

“Oh no, no, I can absolutely carry all of this myself.” Arthur looked at all of his armour, rethinking that statement. He certainly didn’t want to put everything back on. “On second thought, George will enjoy just the helmet and sword.”

“Are you running a fever?” Merlin walked over, pressing the inside of his wrist to Arthur’s forehead. “This is the third time I’ve seen you like this.”

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur admonished, moving his head out of Merlin’s reach. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Hmm, debatable.”

Arthur gave him a mocking look. “Very funny.”

“It has been said that I am quite a delight.” Merlin grinned.

Arthur stopped a retort from passing his lips. “Well, I best get this to George then,” Arthur said, internally groaning at himself. He bowed to Merlin, grabbed his helmet and sword and fled the scene in mortification.

He heard Merlin say, “Um, goodbye then,” from behind him.

Gods, he _bowed to Merlin_. What in the world was wrong with him?

He ran into Guinevere in the hallway outside his chambers and cringed as she gave him a knowing look, following him inside.

“Again, sire?” Gwen said, exasperated.

Arthur hung his head for a moment. “I know,” he all but whined. “I don’t know why I can’t stop acting like this.”

“If I may?” Gwen asked, with a raised brow. Arthur nodded. Anything to knock some sense into him.

“Arthur,” Gwen began. “You’re the _prince_ , and Merlin is your best friend who’s hurt and all he wants to do is talk to you. I know you’re there for him as much as you can be. Gaius has mentioned a few things…” she trailed off for a moment. 

Arthur was struck with the realization that maybe he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was. _Oh gods_ , he thought, _what if Merlin realized what he was doing?_

“But he is, whether you can admit it aloud or not, your best friend,” Gwen continued. “And I know you care deeply for him, sire. I think it’s time you talked to him, about _everything_ ,” she emphasized.

How was it that everyone could read him like a book?

“I promise, I’ll think about it,” Arthur said, ignoring Gwen’s pointed look. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but I still need time, that’s all.”

Gwen sighed, looking him over. “Don’t take too long, Arthur. As someone who knows what it is to have your affection, you deserve just as much. Let yourself be happy, sire. I know you’re afraid of what your father would say if he were to find out, but one day, you’ll be king, and you’ll regret this moment if you don’t take the chance.”

Arthur knew she was right, but why was it so hard to do it?

“He feels the same way about you, sire, I promise,” Gwen reassured him. “Believe me.”

“Have you heard something?” Arthur asked before he could stop himself. “What has he said? _What did he tell you?_ ”

Gwen laughed heartily for a moment. “You boys, honestly.” She shook her head, smiling. “I think it’s time you talked to him, sire. It’ll do you both some good.”

She patted him on the arm, reassuringly. “Promise me that you’ll think about it, okay?”

“I promise,” Arthur agreed.

“Good,” she said. “Now, as you were.”

Arthur laughed. “Thank you, Guinevere.” He watched as she took her leave, giving her a small wave. He definitely had some more thinking to do.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Arthur laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. He knew that he shouldn’t do what was keeping him awake, but he had too. Just one more quick trip to check on Merlin, one more note and then he was done. He could be done, right?

Even after his talk with Guinevere, things had still become increasingly awkward with Merlin. It was like Arthur had completely forgotten how to act around him. Fumbling with whatever he happened to have in his hands, saying the wrong thing (and okay, so maybe that wasn’t so unusual), or simply just running away from him.

Now that Merlin was up and about (though still not back to his manservant duties, which Arthur wasn’t sure he was thankful for or not), it was like Arthur turned into a clumsy oaf whenever he encountered him.

Which was ridiculous, he’s the Prince, for goodness sake. If anyone should run away from someone, it should be _Merlin_ from _him_ , and yet…Arthur couldn’t help it. But after this last note, maybe he could tell Merlin to his face how he felt, but the thought of that left Arthur wracked with nerves.

But no matter, he could worry about that tomorrow; let that be future Arthur’s problem.

Arthur headed to Merlin’s chambers, and he was quickly let in by Gaius, the routine between them easy.

He quietly made his way into Merlin’s room, his note of “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I see you clearly now. I just hope that you can forgive me,” set on Merlin’s stand. He only lingered for a moment.

“Arthur?” Merlin called quietly from behind him as he had turned to leave.

Arthur froze, feeling like he had gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“Merlin,” he said, slowly turning around to face him.

“Is everything all right?” Merlin asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Yes, of course,” Arthur said. “Just, ah, dropping off something.”

“Oh.” Merlin’s eyes darted to his bedside table. It must have been a trick of the light but it seemed as though Merlin’s cheeks had flushed red. “Gaius told me you had been helping him. Apparently, I’m not much of a model patient and treating me at night is the only way to get anything accomplished.”

“No surprise there, then,” Arthur retorted before he could stop himself.

Merlin smiled, shaking his head at Arthur. “Thank you for—”

“What? Watching you while you slept?” Arthur interjected.

“Well, you don’t have to make it weird, you prat.” Merlin laughed. “But for letting me in a little with the notes—I’ve kept them all.” He got out of bed, looking at Arthur decisively, and kneeled down onto the floorboards, using his good hand to seemingly feel out for something. He made a soft, triumphant sound, as one of floor planks easily gave way under his hand as he lifted it up. Merlin took out a notebook of sorts, handing it over to Arthur to see.

Arthur took it in his hands, opening it. And there carefully placed between each page were his notes. There were pages upon pages filled with them. He didn’t even know what to say.

“And thank you for what you did with Uther, and well, taking care of me,” Merlin finished.

“I only did a small bit of that last part, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Arthur said, rubbing at the back of his neck after passing the notebook back. The knowledge that Merlin had kept his notes left him reeling.

Merlin rolled his eyes, getting up and sitting on his bed. “You know what I mean.”

“I know, Merlin,” Arthur admitted. He sighed for a moment, the late hour catching up to him. “Listen, I think—I think we should talk soon.”

Merlin paused for a moment before nodding. “I think that would be good.”

“Good,” Arthur agreed. “Uh, well, um, I’ll just, see you later then. Or tomorrow, tomorrow will be better.” Let himself better prepare for this conversation. Arthur couldn’t even fathom where they could begin, just that they needed to.

Arthur could tell that Merlin was trying not to laugh at him. Would it be too disgraceful for a prince to throw himself down the stairs leading out of Merlin’s room?

“Tomorrow it is, then,” Merlin said.

Arthur gave Merlin one last smile, and left him to his sleep.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Tomorrow came quicker than Arthur expected, and he knew that he couldn’t keep this oddness between him and Merlin forever (nor the whole “him constantly running away from Merlin” but never mind that). And, honestly, it wasn’t that he truly ever meant to, but he needed _time_ , he needed to be able to think things through. And now, well, now he knew what he wanted (and desperately needed) to do. 

No more running, no more excuses—they needed to talk. About everything.

If he didn’t go and find Merlin now, then he was afraid that he might lose his will to do it at all and then they’d be left in this uncomfortable place—were they still friends? Did Merlin think that Arthur hated that he had magic? What was it that the two of them were? Arthur knew what he wanted and he had to tell Merlin how he felt about _everything_. There would be no going back after this, and Arthur didn’t want to. He just hoped that Merlin would feel the same.

Still in his sleeping garb, Arthur quickly grabbed a torch, as the sun had only just begun to rise, and made his way down to Merlin and Gaius’ chambers, hoping that Merlin was awake.

He knocked on the door softly, waiting a moment before Gaius opened the door.

“Sire, it’s just past dawn. What do you need?” Gaius asked, squinting from the light from the flame.

“I need to speak with Merlin,” Arthur said. “It’s important.”

“So important that it couldn’t wait until it wasn’t so early?” Gaius raised an eyebrow at him, and Arthur felt properly chastised at that.

“I apologize for waking you, but it is of the utmost importance,” Arthur pleaded. “Gaius, I promise everything will be alright.”

Gaius looked Arthur over carefully, surveying Arthur’s words and demeanor, before nodding. “I believe you, sire. Now, I do believe that there should be some delectable baked goods in the kitchens this early, so if I may…” He gestured towards the torch.

“Oh, of course,” Arthur said, handing it over, as he made his way in the room. “And thank you, Gaius.”

“I trust in you, Prince Arthur. I know you’ll do the right thing,” Gaius said. “He’s in his room now, and do be careful with him. For all his powers, he would do anything for you.”

Arthur could only stare at Gaius’ retreating back, taking in his words. Arthur believed he knew the risk he was about to take (and had been taking), but Merlin was worth it. He could only hope that _he_ was worth it as well.

Arthur felt nervous as he slowly made his way towards Merlin’s room. He had tried to practice what he wanted to say, but he knew that Merlin would inevitably make him all tongue tied and gave up.

He wiped his hands on his trousers, trying to calm himself, as he knocked on the door. “Merlin? It’s Arthur,” he called out.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, looking surprised as he opened the door.

He looked rumpled from sleep, his hair in disarray, holding his broken arm against his chest. Arthur felt his heart clench at the sight.

“May I come in?” Arthur implored.

“I, yes, of course,” Merlin mumbled, moving out of the way to let Arthur in.

Arthur couldn’t help but look around, realizing that he never really got to see this side of Merlin. The one where he leaves his clothes in heaps, his books gathered by the side of his bed as if he grabbed one before bed each night, and he wondered still...could he have a place here? Would Merlin want him to?

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Arthur said, “Maybe we should sit.”

Merlin nodded, looking a little worried. 

They both took a seat on Merlin’s bed, facing each other. And Arthur didn’t know where to begin.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, looking Merlin over. “Is everything going alright?”

Merlin shot him a look. “Is that really what you came to talk to me about? I know what I said last night, but you must realize that it’s been two weeks since we’ve had a proper conversation, sire. Or you’ve even looked me in the eyes.”

Arthur winced at what he knew to be true, but couldn’t stop the blazing retort from forming on his tongue. “Well, pardon me, but you’ve lied to me for three years straight. So sorry that I had to unpack and deal with _all of that_.”

“Arthur, I…” Merlin began.

Arthur waved his hand at him, stopping him. “I’m sorry. Just—let me say something first, please. Merlin, I-I do understand why you thought that you couldn’t tell me about...about your magic. I mean, when have I ever really given you any indication that it would be alright? But, I wish you had. I desperately wished you had. That you had felt safe enough with me to know that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you…”

“Arthur, it’s not that I didn’t want to, believe me. I just, I didn’t want you to have to choose between me and Camelot, me and your father, and I wish you didn’t have to do it now,” Merlin said.

Arthur looked over at him, astonished. “Merlin, that’s what worried you? How? _Why_?” 

“Arthur,” Merlin said, softly, “I know that one day you’ll be the greatest king that Camelot has ever known and I would do anything to keep you safe. Safe from physical harm, mental harm, anything. I know how much your father means to you, and I didn’t want to put you in the position of having to lie to him about me, about my magic. While I don’t agree with many—most—of the things that Uther does, I know you respect him, and I didn’t want to make you have to decide. I-I wasn’t sure what you would do…” Merlin trailed off. “I suppose I know now…”

Arthur couldn’t find the words to say what he was feeling. Was it possible for him to love Merlin anymore than he already did? How could Arthur even _be_ deserving of Merlin’s love? Where could they go from here?

“And Arthur, I’m sorry too. Truly sorry for never telling you. Every day I wanted to, to show you what I was able to do, that I do it for you. I hated lying and keeping that from you, but I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I hate that you lied to me too,” Arthur said, the sting of the betrayal still sharp for all the love he felt for Merlin. “I’ve let you into my life more than anyone I’ve ever met, and knowing that you didn’t trust _me_. Merlin, that...that really hurt me, no matter how justified. Would you ever have told me?”

Merlin was silent for a few moments, staring at the floor before saying, “I would like to believe that eventually I would have, when you were king, but I don’t know. My entire life, I’ve been told to keep my magic a secret and not let anyone know. Keep my head down, don’t make waves, just keep yourself safe. And to come here, to Camelot, and find my destiny. A destiny in a place where people like me are hunted down, killed, given no mercy...I did the only thing that I knew how to do. I kept it a secret.

“And I hated every moment I kept it from you. You have every right to be angry at me, to be furious. I just hope that one day you can forgive me,” Merlin said, staring into Arthur’s eyes. “I know what you’ve done for me these past few weeks, and the burden this has put on you, but I-I’ll always be here if you need me.”

“Merlin,” Arthur began, reaching out towards Merlin, resting his hand on top of Merlin’s for a moment. “I cannot even begin to imagine or understand the hardships and struggles that you go through every day here in Camelot. And I am truly sorry for the part I’ve played in causing them.”

“Arthur—”

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand. “There’s one more thing I have to tell you.” Merlin looked at him, cautious, his eyes damp. “I don’t know how to say this,” Arthur began. He was more nervous for this than at any point during their conversation. How was he supposed to tell Merlin how he felt?

“What is it Arthur?” Merlin asked softly.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was now or never, and it couldn’t be _never_. “I’m in love with you.”

Arthur took in Merlin’s shocked face as he continued. “I-I have been for a while now, and these past few days, well _weeks_ , it’s really hit me full on...the way that I feel about you. It’s overwhelming to me. I thought that I could ignore it, push it down, but I can’t. I know how difficult it would be for us to be together, but I needed to tell you. You’re it for me, Merlin. I don’t know what it is about you, but you make me feel complete, like I’m worthy of love.”

He held up a hand, motioning for Merlin to keep listening, though he could tell that Merlin was desperate to say something. But Arthur was almost afraid to know what he might have to say.

“I don’t want you to say anything back,” Arthur interrupted as Merlin began to talk, letting go of Merlin’s hand. “No, Merlin, please. I want you to think about what I said, and everything we’ve talked about. Even though when I’m king things will be different, but right now, at this very moment, I’m just a prince. And we’re living in a kingdom that would not only kill you for simply being who you are, but would also harm you for being with me. This isn’t something to take lightly. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen between us; nothing will change—I’ll keep protecting you as best as I can, and I’ll always be there for you too.

“I’ll let you get some rest,” Arthur said, getting up from the bed. “Just...think about what I said.”

“Arthur—” Merlin began.

“It’s okay, Merlin, I don’t—I don’t need an answer now. Please think about what I’ve said.”

“But Arthur,” Merlin insisted.

“ _Mer_ lin.”

Merlin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Alright, fine, you win,” he said, raising his arms in defeat. “I’ll just tell you tomorrow, then.” He grinned widely at Arthur.

“God help me,” Arthur said, starting to walk away, but Merlin caught up to him.

“Arthur,” Merlin said softly, one hand going to cup the side of Arthur’s face. Arthur stood frozen as Merlin slowly leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Arthur’s lips, his thumb gently rubbing against Arthur’s cheekbone.

Arthur blinked, dazed, as Merlin pulled away, walking away from him.

“Hey, just remember that you’re the one who’s in love with me!” Merlin called out to him with a wink.

Arthur laughed, coming back to himself as he shook his head as he looked back at Merlin, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. “Bye, Merlin.”

“Goodbye, Arthur.”

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Arthur couldn’t help but glance at one of Merlin’s Yule gifts the next morning. He had taken the neckerchief wrapped sigil out of his bedside drawer earlier, setting it on top of it. He picked it up, shifting it back and forth between his hands, before tucking it into his jacket’s inner pocket.

He needed to get out of this room. When Merlin wanted to talk, he would be able to find him. There was no sense in waiting around, letting the torture of the wait get to him. Even though Merlin had kissed him (and oh gods, _Merlin had kissed him_ ) he couldn’t help but worry about what Merlin might say. Would he want to actually be with Arthur?

Arthur shook his head. He couldn’t think this way. Whatever was going to happen, would happen. Maybe a walk down the streets of Camelot would clear his head…

He had only made it down the corridor before he was greeted by Merlin, who jumped out in front of him.

“Merlin,” Arthur asked, surprised. “What are you doing?” Arthur looked over his crumpled appearance. “And you accuse me of not being able to properly dress myself. Did you just wake up?”

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose in what looked like agony. “Will you just be quiet for a moment, hmm?”

Arthur blinked at Merlin a few times, words leaving him.

“Come with me,” Merlin said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him alongside him.

“Again, what are you doing?” Arthur questioned. “And where are we going?”

Merlin stopped for a moment, letting go of Arthur and putting his good hand over Arthur’s mouth. “Do you trust me?”

Arthur nodded, weary.

“Then just follow me,” Merlin said, taking his hand away and gesturing for Arthur to follow him.

It took Arthur a second to realize where they were going—Merlin and Gaius’ chambers.

“Is something wrong? You’re not hurt even worse, are you?” Arthur couldn’t help but wonder aloud.

“There may be something wrong with my taste in men, but other than that…” Merlin muttered to himself, trailing off as they walked straight through to Merlin’s room.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, following Merlin’s lead and sitting down beside him on the bed. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster, his pulse jumping as what was happening started to dawn on him. Did he dare hope?

“Arthur,” Merlin started. “I know why you didn’t want an answer from me right away, but _you_ have to understand, Arthur. Everything I do is for you.” Arthur couldn’t hide his frown at that. “No, no, Arthur, just listen…” Merlin continued, reaching out and grabbing Arthur’s hand with his own. “I don’t do this—” he waved his cast, gesturing at himself “—use my magic, be your servant, out of some sense of obligation, or the fact that I am your servant, or anything like that. I do this because I love you too. We—we fit, Arthur. Like two sides of the same coin. I think no matter what we were to each other in this lifetime or in any other, we would have found our way to one another no matter what. I’m yours until the day I die, and whatever comes after.”

“Merlin,” Arthur managed to utter, feeling completely overwhelmed. “I-I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I heard you loud and clear before, and it—it meant a lot to me to know that you feel the same. That you accept me for all that I am. That you could ever feel the same felt impossible to me.”

Arthur couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh at that. “That felt impossible to _you_? Merlin, I’m the prince, you’re my servant _and_ you’re a man. I never thought that this could happen—that you would love me too.”

“ _Arthur_ ,” Merlin said with relish, shaking his head. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re the future king, huh?”

Arthur grinned for a moment, matching Merlin’s smile, before becoming serious. He needed Merlin to understand that regardless of whatever happened between them, Merlin’s faith in him wouldn’t be misplaced. “When I’m king, things will be different, Merlin. I promise.”

“I know. I trust in you, Arthur,” Merlin replied, slowly leaning towards Arthur, placing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.

Arthur felt as if he had been lit on fire. The sensation of Merlin’s lips touching his skin left him reeling, wanting for more.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered, his heart beating erratically as Merlin leaned in towards him again, this time pressing his lips against Arthur’s in a gentle kiss.

Arthur pulled Merlin against him as best as he could, his right hand resting against Merlin’s throat, his thumb stroking Merlin’s jawline as they kissed.

“Let me take care of you for once,” Arthur murmured against Merlin’s lips. He looked at Merlin, taking in his flushed face and hungry gaze as he nodded in response. He leaned back in, kissing Merlin, whose lips parted quickly, his tongue flicking against Arthur’s own. Arthur groaned, slipping his right hand underneath Merlin’s night shirt, resting it against Merlin’s stomach before gently moving it up and down, tweaking one of his nipples before working his way back down.

Arthur grinned as Merlin let out a quiet moan. “Lie down,” Arthur said, hovering over Merlin, kissing him as he did so. He was careful to not jostle Merlin’s arm, resting himself between Merlin’s legs, his arms on either side of Merlin’s head. He dove in for another kiss, relishing in the way Merlin’s lips felt against his own. Nothing in the world could compare to this.

Arthur sat up quickly, discarding his own shirt before ridding Merlin of his, being mindful once again of his cast, taking in the sight before him. He could see Merlin flush under his scrutiny, biting his bottom lip. Arthur groaned, feeling himself harden, as he leaned back down, trailing kisses onto Merlin’s stomach, taking the time to graze each nipple with his teeth, before sucking on the soft skin of Merlin’s neck. Merlin bucked underneath him for a moment, his fingernails digging into the skin on Arthur’s back.

Arthur grinned against Merlin’s skin, kissing alongside Merlin’s jawline, and then peppering kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, before capturing Merlin’s lips with his own, his body pressed up against Merlin’s. He would never get tired of this.

“Merlin,” Arthur moaned as he tried to take a breath. He could feel Merlin’s hardness underneath him. It sent a shot of arousal through him. “We still have too many clothes on,” he mumbled attempting to get himself out of his trousers without jostling Merlin.

Merlin laughed, his face red, as he watched Arthur undress. Arthur couldn’t help but preen under Merlin’s gaze. “You’re ridiculous,” Merlin said, laughing quietly again. “Now help me, you prat.”

Arthur got to work in seconds, taking care to be gentle as he removed each article of clothing from Merlin. Pressing kisses to Merlin’s bare skin, relishing in the way Merlin responded to each touch, as if he couldn’t get enough.

They were soon both naked and panting as they kissed, Arthur once again slotting his body firmly in between Merlin’s legs, moaning as their cocks brushed up against one another. Arthur shifted slightly, his head resting in the crook of Merlin’s neck, as he reached down between them, grabbing a hold of Merlin’s cock, gently squeezing as Merlin hips bucked at the touch.

He heard Merlin mumble something that he couldn’t understand and suddenly he felt his hand warm with oil.

Arthur let go of Merlin’s cock and turned his face into Merlin’s neck, laughing. “What, you couldn’t give me a second to get up and get it? I’m sure you have a jar around here somewhere.”

“Ah, but why would I have you get up when I’ve finally got you where I want you?” Merlin asked, grinning wolfishly at Arthur.

“Hmm, so this is where you want me? Not…” Arthur leaned forward, kissing Merlin firmly on the mouth for a moment before pulling away and leaning his forehead against Merlin’s, smiling. Arthur slowly moved his hand down Merlin’s body once more, and took hold of Merlin’s cock, slowly pumping it as Merlin moaned. He dragged his thumb over the sensitive head, wiping at the precum. “Here,” he finished, pressing his own cock against Merlin’s, the two of them heavy in Arthur’s hand and he moved them as one.

“Arthur,” Merlin moaned, and Arthur could feel the nails on his left hand digging into his back. The sensation of Merlin’s cock against his was overwhelming. He tugged and tugged, groaning at the contact.

“Gods, Merlin.” Arthur sighed as he let go of them both, diving back in for another kiss, making sure their bodies were as close as they could be. His hands were gripping the sheets on either side of Merlin’s head as he pumped his hips, their cocks still brushing up against each other.

Merlin moaned into Arthur’s mouth and wrapped his legs around him, his good hand grasping Arthur’s ass, urging him on. Arthur kissed Merlin harder as he snapped his hips, chasing the high of what he was feeling. His cock was hard and leaking against Merlin’s own as Merlin met each movement with his own.

“Fuck, _Merlin_ ,” he muttered with relish when he felt his balls tightening. “I’m gonna…”

Merlin gripped him tighter, rutting up against him hard. “Please, Arthur, please, I wanna feel you.”

Arthur was powerless to stop himself. He kissed Merlin deeply, his tongue grazing against Merlin’s before pulling away, burying his face in Merlin’s neck as he moaned. Merlin’s relentless thrusting pushed him over the edge and he came, his own hips stuttering, as an endless stream of “Merlin” fell from his lips.

“Fuck, _Merlin_ ,” Arthur gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Merlin laughed softly. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

Arthur was powerless to deny Merlin anything. He leaned over, kissing him gently, trying to pour his love into every kiss.

Merlin continued to rut up against him, and Arthur could feel Merlin’s hard cock, leaking, with every movement. Arthur kissed Merlin again, biting gently on Merlin’s lower lip, before slowly moving down Merlin’s body, mapping every inch of it, kissing his chin, his collarbones, his chest, his stomach, before inching his way towards Merlin’s cock.

“Arthur.” Merlin shuddered as Arthur settled further down between his legs, pressing kisses to his inner thighs while his hand gently rolled Merlin’s balls, and then licking a stripe up the side of Merlin’s cock.

Merlin whimpered at the contact, his available hand reaching to grasp the back of Arthur’s head.

Arthur groaned as he took Merlin’s cock into his mouth. He sucked at the head, massaging the shaft with his hand. He moaned as Merlin’s cock hit the back of his throat and Merlin’s hips thrust forward, erratically, his hand keeping Arthur where he was. He let Merlin take control, breathing through his nose, and he groaned around Merlin’s cock. “Arthur, Arthur, _Arthur_ ,” Merlin gasped. “I’m so close…”

Merlin’s hips stuttered as he came, moaning Arthur’s name. Arthur coaxed Merlin through his orgasm as he sucked his cock, relishing in the feeling of Merlin’s release on his tongue. He pulled his mouth off of Merlin’s cock once he finished, swallowing it all as he looked up at Merlin through his lashes. “Fuck,” Merlin moaned. “Arthur, gods.”

Arthur kissed his way back up Merlin’s body before gently kissing Merlin’s lips, slowly moving to rest next to Merlin.

“Gods, why didn’t we do this in my bed?” Arthur asked, attempting to curl up next to Merlin, only partially succeeding as one of his legs dangled off the side of the twin bed.

Merlin laughed, turning onto his side to face. “You shouldn’t have accosted me in my room, you great brute.”

“How dare you,” Arthur gasped, hiding a smile. “You’re the one who dragged me up here. Should have thought about that, _Mer_ lin.”

“Ah, well, it was worth it,” Merlin said, leaning in to kiss Arthur.

Arthur couldn’t stop the smile from blooming on his face even if he wanted to. “Utterly,” he agreed.

Merlin nudged his nose against Arthur’s, smiling. “I love you,” he said, softly.

“I love you, too,” Arthur replied.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Eventually, they moved to Arthur’s room, ignoring Gaius’ pointed looks later in the day. Arthur made sure Merlin was comfortable, a warm feeling of love in his chest as he looked at Merlin in his bed.

They spent the night whispering to one another, pressing kisses to one another’s lips at any chance that they could get, and holding each other close as they slept. 

It was one of the best nights of sleep Arthur had ever had in his life.

Arthur watched as the snow fell from the sky, wrapped up in a blanket, as he waited for Merlin to wake up. He could hardly believe everything that had happened. All the _good_ that had happened. He was Merlin’s and Merlin was his, and Arthur could hardly believe that something like this would ever happen to him.

He left the curtain open and made his way back over to the bed, crawling in beside Merlin.

Merlin immediately rolled over, pressing his face into Arthur’s neck. “What were you doing?” he mumbled.

“Just taking a look outside. Camelot is beautiful when it snows. Everything seems softer somehow, and peaceful. It makes me want to make sure my people feel like this all year if I can,” Arthur replied, carefully carding his fingers through Merlin’s hair.

Merlin opened his eyes, smiling at Arthur. The sight took his breath away. “And, of course, it’s Yule.”

“I do love Yule,” Arthur admitted readily.

Merlin snuggled closer to him. “I know you do, you big softie. Who knew the great Prince of Camelot was so sweet underneath all that rugged, but handsome exterior?”

Arthur wiggled his eyebrows. “Handsome exterior, eh? I like to hear that.”

Merlin snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I figured as much. Sometimes you do need your ego fed.”

“Thank you, oh great and powerful Merlin, for deigning to do so.”

“You are most welcome, plebeian.”

“Plebeian?” Arthur sniffed, feigning hurt.

“If the shoe fits,” Merlin muttered into the pillow, smiling.

“I’ll show you if the shoe fits,” Arthur said, reaching over to push Merlin onto his back, straddling his waist—taking care to mind his still bandaged arm—and kissed him soundly.

They kissed and kissed, relishing in each other’s company. Arthur still couldn’t believe that this was real, that this was happening. That Merlin could be here in his arms and that everything could be okay, at least for a moment.

They broke apart slowly, Arthur getting off of Merlin, snuggling him into his chest.

“I know we should get up, but I have to say that I have no desire to do so,” Arthur admitted with a laugh.

“I know the feeling,” Merlin said, patting Arthur’s arm. “But I think we should. If I don’t get up now, I just might waste away in this bed.”

“And what a tragedy that would be.” Arthur pressed a kiss to cheek, getting up. “So, up and at ‘em, you lazy daisy.”

“Don’t use my words against me,” Merlin said, with a laugh, taking Arthur’s offered hand and following suit and getting out of bed.

Arthur watched as Merlin grabbed his clothes that had been thrown carelessly when they had gone to bed.

“I got you something,” Arthur said, pulling on his trousers and tunic, walking over to his bedside table and grabbing the gifts. “For Yule.”

Merlin paused for a moment while dressing. “Did you?”

“Yes, I’ve, uh, actually had everything for a while now,” Arthur admitted.

“Oh,” Merlin responded, pulling his shirt the rest of the way on, and walking over to where Arthur had sat at the table with a gift in front of him. It had arrived the night before, packaged and ready.

“Open it, please,” Arthur said, nodding towards the gift.

Merlin smiled softly, pulling the gift closer to him. Arthur could feel his heart starting to beat faster, nervous as to what Merlin might think. He still had his other gifts in his hands. He had found it still in his cloak’s inner pocket earlier and had put it with the rest of Merlin's gifts. He had almost forgotten that it was there after all that had happened.

Merlin quickly made haste in unwrapping, a small gasp, leaving him as he took in the tunic. “It’s lovely, Arthur,” he said, smiling at Arthur before looking down at the tunic and running his hand over the fabric. “It’s purple…” he trailed off.

“Yes,” Arthur nodded. “A royal colour…”

Merlin bit his lip, shaking his head for a moment. “Thank you.”

“There’s one other thing,” Arthur said, passing over the smaller parcel to Merlin.

“Arthur,” he said. “This is too much.”

“Think of it as making up for all the other Yules that have gone by…”

“Hmm, you have stepped up your gift game,” Merlin joked. “Did you have help?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Guinevere only went with me, I’ll have you know.”

Merlin pursed his lips at that, saying nothing as he opened the next gift. His fingers grazed over the blue neckerchief delicately as he shook his head, smiling.

Arthur could tell the moment that Merlin realized that it was covering something else.

“Arthur, what…” Merlin began as he lifted up the sigil.

“It was my mother’s,” Arthur said, smiling, as Merlin glanced over to him with wide eyes. “It’s one of the few things that I own that bear her mark and that was once her’s.”

“Arthur, I can’t accept this,” Merlin said, thickly.

Arthur shook his head, resting his hand over Merlin’s. “Just...take it, please. I want you to have it. It means...a lot to me, and so do you.”

Merlin squeezed his hand before letting go. “Thank you, Arthur,” he said. Arthur knew that Merlin understood the gravity of what he had given him, that he was giving Merlin a piece of his heart.

“Now, I got you something as well,” Merlin said, waggling his eyebrows at Arthur for a moment with a smile before turning serious.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Merlin,” Arthur replied.

“I know that, but I wanted to,” Merlin said, getting up and looking for his jacket. “It’s not much, but...” Merlin trailed off for a moment before seemingly steeling himself. “I wanted to remind you that I am yours, always.” He pushed a small box into Arthur’s hands.

Arthur couldn’t fathom what it could be. He opened the box carefully to see a posy ring, silver and polished with an inscription of “æfre” on the inside. Arthur took the ring, holding it delicately in his hand, and he felt another wave of love crash over him as he looked at Merlin. It meant, “Forever,” Arthur said before taking a breath. “Always.” His heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest.

Merlin smiled nervously, his eyes shining. “Forever, always. I’ll be here.”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur said warmly, affection dripping from his tone. “To forever, then.” He pulled Merlin in close and kissed him softly.

Merlin smiled, resting his forehead against Arthur’s. “To forever.”


End file.
